


No Matter What

by fallenflowercrowns



Series: New York (kind words to a broken heart) [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Chance Meetings, Coming Out, Established Relationship, Hotels, In a way, Light Angst, M/M, Rekindling romance, Trapped In Elevator, kinda – it's complicated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 11:10:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13703253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenflowercrowns/pseuds/fallenflowercrowns
Summary: Two Englishmen (and two Germans) in New York. Or, a chance meeting.





	No Matter What

**Author's Note:**

> Well, where do I start with this. I certainly never planned to write something like it, and I have no clue if any of my One Direction readers are still around, or if anyone will be interested in reading this at all.
> 
> But somehow, this idea wouldn't leave me alone. 
> 
> This is my last hurray for the 1D fandom, so to speak, to properly end things instead of just disappearing like I did. So yeah, here's a Larry story, even if I will most likely never write them again. You might say it's cheating though, because it's somewhat centered around my new OTP, or rather: my former longest lasting OTP accidentally meeting my newest one, who, in a couple months, will surpass them.
> 
> This is not technically a crossover, since these two couples are and stay strangers to each other. Unbeta'd, so please notify me if you find any spelling- or other mistakes that bother you!
> 
> And if you're someone who followed me back in the day and stayed all this time – thank you, this one is for you. I hope you enjoy ♡

They have been arguing. They don't see each other all that often anymore, him and Harry, and when they do, what they had and what they still mean to each other always hangs in between them like a dark cloud.

This is probably the third time in a year that they’re trying to rekindle their romance after realizing that no one else can live up to them. The third time one of them will probably quietly disappear in the morning after an argument, some fumbled kisses in an hotel elevator or another and some mindblowing sex.

Sometimes, Louis feels like he's stuck in that movie with that squirrel. Was it a squirrel? He's still pondering that as they wait for the elevator, even if it's complete bullshit; he hasn't even seen the movie. Also yes, he's a bit tipsy, but so is Harry judging by the way he's concentratedly staring at the doors of the lift.

They're in New York, the city that never sleeps, but still he's reasonably disappointed when the the elevator doesn't end up being empty. Two men are already inside, the wide-eyed look on their faces making clear that most likely, Louis and Harry interrupted something.

"Evening," Harry says, his eyebrows knitted together, a sentiment that only receives mumbled replies from the two guys who are sheepishly staring at them, even if there is a heated, mischievous spark in the smaller one's eyes, while the cheeks of the tall blond on his right are suspiciously pink, his plump lips looking slightly swollen.

Louis can't help grinning to himself as he pushes into the elevator, jabbing the button for the 23rd floor. Interrupted something, indeed. (His gaydar has always been impeccable.)

The elevator stars to move and Harry is still sulking, probably by now because they're quite apparently going to miss out on their obligatory semi-public make-out session. Louis decides he will let him be, so he busies himself with observing the two strangers.

They're standing one foot apart, trying very hard to look anywhere but at each other or at Louis and Harry. The one on Louis' right is squinting up at the ceiling, the other is pointedly staring at the tips of his shoes. They look like nice enough lads, probably a few years older than himself, even if Louis has generally always got beef with people who are more than a few inches taller than him; and with these two, the shorter of them got an inch or two on Harry – Louis’ head could barely reach the taller one's chin.

The elevator jolts a bit. Harry huffs, crossing his arms in front of his chest, the fabric of his extravagant burgundy suit rustling. He looks stunning in it, and so Louis said when he first climbed out of the taxi. Harry’s answering smile was tired but genuine.

Right now, Louis is busy wondering why the taller one's wholesome features seem so familiar or where he's seen his companion’s face before. He's making a mental checklist of all the events they could have already met when the elevator comes to an abrupt halt.

"Wha'?" Harry says, and Louis ponders that the puzzled expression on his face should probably not make him want to kiss it right off his face. (It does.)

It takes a few awkward seconds for anyone to make a move, and it's the shorter of the two strangers who presses the alarm button. He's lanky, stick-limbed, with short, mousy brown and somewhat curly hair. His features are peculiar though, not exactly handsome but very striking in their own way. Currently he's frowning but by the lines by his eyes Louis can tell he's someone who enjoys laughing.

His companion bites his lip - blond, blue eyed, more pretty than handsome and just too fucking tall, Louis concludes. Also, judging by the the breadth of his chest and the way his jacket strains over his biceps, he would probably have no problem with casually tossing Louis over his shoulder, pretty face or not.

"Hello?" the one at the intercom says, "Hello, I think we're stuck."

His English is heavily accented, though Louis can't immediately place the accent.

They all wait for an answer. When after a few minutes, there is none, Louis steps forward, jabbing the button again. He clears his throat.

"Hello, anyone there?" No answer once more. Louis sighs. "Listen, pal, we're stuck here, so we'd really appreciate some help." He can hear his annoyance already dripping into his voice but he can't help it; still, there's no reply.

Harry frowns, pushing past Louis, but Louis catches him by the elbow.

"Leave it Haz, it's no use," he says, nuding him to the side, preening when he feels Harry lean into his touch. It's almost sad that it has come to a point where outside of sexual desire, that tiny response already seems like a lot.

Louis is the first to sit down, as the other three have been just awkwardly hovering about, not really knowing what to do with themselves.

The lanky brunet follows suit, tugging at the tall blond's sleeve, making him plop down next to him. Louis can't help noticing that their fingers are only half an inch away from touching, their knees and shoulders casually bumping against each other, unable to overlook the small fond smiles appearing on their lips whenever it happens.

The glances they exchange are terribly soft, and if Louis had any doubts left, they would have been vanquished by now; new love has a very distinct taste to it.

When Harry finally sits down as well after only staring at the three men on the floor for a while, studying them with his big green eyes, it's on the opposite of Louis, throwing his head back against the wall, letting out a frustrated groan. It’s a bit cramped now, not only but probably mostly because Louis seems to be the only one in this cabin that doesn’t call a pair of absurdly long legs his own.

For a while no one says anything, then the (assumed) couple starts to quietly talk in another language that Louis is quite sure he is able to identify as German.

Their hushed conversation ebbs out after a few minutes and they turn to just wordlessly staring holes into the walls. Harry still has his eyes closed, and Louis, well, he is starting to grow bored. Which with him, rarely means anything good. This time, his mouth then decides to ease the tension before he has any time to think about it.

(It helps that they haven't seemed to have recognized him and Harry yet; it makes Louis feel daring.)

"So what are you two in New York for, then?" he asks, tilting his head curiously.

The wide-eyed look the two men shoot him is slightly puzzled and a bit bewildered, as if they certainly didn’t expect to actually have to _talk_ to the two strangers they were stuck in a lift with.

"Holidays," the blond finally mutters, ducking his head in between his shoulders, trying to appear smaller than he actually was.

"Ahh, romantic getaway?" The words leave Louis’ mouth before he can stop them.

As a blush rises on tall blondie's cheeks, his shoulders tightening, his partner only lets out a surprised little chuckle.

"Is it that easy to tell?"

Louis shrugs it off with a fanciful wave of his hand, putting on his charming smile.

Liam had always hated his inclination for taking joy out of embarrassing people, especially when there was nothing better to do. Which, according to Liam, was basically all the time, Louis; could you _not_? (Sometimes, Louis misses that stuck-up knob way too much, though he quickly pushes that thought back were it came from, scoffing at himself.)

He wants to continue but hesitates a bit when he finds Harry's emerald eyes now resting on him, pinning him down, and Louis finds it difficult to not drown in them, suddenly struggling to remember his words.

He clears his throat, turning to the (probably) German couple again. His smile feels slightly forced. He takes his time, weighing his words in his mind, wonders if he’s truly gonna offer two strangers that much of himself just like that; but alas, in for a penny, in for a pound.

"Nah mate, don't worry. It's just that you learn what to look for, when you have to be careful of these things, yourself."

It's incredible to watch, how the blond's face opens up at that, the relief so blaringly evident in his eyes, his posture relaxing immediately. And suddenly, Louis can see himself in him, a few years ago, so hell-bent on not letting anyone know, so desperate to protect the precious multi-million-pound life he had built around himself.

Suddenly, he wants to yell at the blond, tell him that it's not worth it. That he mustn’t dare throwing this away, not for the fear, not for anything.

Wants to tell him that a love like this is the most precious but also the most perishable thing in the world. Wants to yell at himself, remind himself of the blame he carried when it came to the tragedy or him and Harry; how much of it was his fault.

His mind is racing as it unsuccessfully tries to remind his heart to be reasonable, his thoughts growing too loud for his head.

It’s incredibly hard not to burst into tears by then – which would not only be extremely embarrassing but also would seem terribly inconsiderable – but somehow, for once, fate is on Louis’ side: The elevator comes back to life with a jolt.

They two Germans immediately rush to get to their feet; the blond offering the brunet his hand, pulling him up. He doesn’t let go of it once they’re standing tough; instead, he locks their fingers together.

Louis blinks and wonders when had been the last time he and Harry acted like that. How long it’s been since they felt more like a ‘were’ instead of a ‘had been’. How long since they’ve behaved like a proper couple.

The elevator stops, the doors open. Louis has expected some janitor or a small team of mechanics to wait for them them but there is no one, just an empty hallway. It’s not his and Harry’s floor, so he concludes that it’s the German couple’s.

One foot already out of the door the brunet hesitates, giving Louis – feeling slightly lost, his emotions still overbearing – and Harry – still sitting in a corner, staring up at them with this disconcerting look in his eyes that he sometimes calls his own – one last glance before shaking his head.

When the blond felt his partner stopping, he turned around as well. He looks torn, letting go of his partner’s hand as the brunet starts walking down the hallway. Once more, Louis is hit with the certainty that he knows this man’s face but he still can’t quite put a finger on it.

As it is, Louis just nods at him, trying to convey the understanding of someone who has gone through a similar situation. It takes a moment, but then, suddenly, a smile blooms on the blond’s face as he returns the nod before turning around, hurrying after his partner with long strides.

Louis takes a deep breath.

It’s everything but easy, being reminded of what you once had. Up until a few minutes ago, it felt like everything he and Harry had ever been has always been this tortured, painful thing they currently are, their happy days barely a far away memory.

But somehow, this small instance, this random meeting, had changed something in him. Reminded him that love, a giddy, happy, all-encompassing love, was worth fighting for. Somehow, even if it wasn’t much, this small exchange feels like an accomplishment.

He turns back to Harry, who’s got a pensive look on his face. But this time, when he feels Louis’ eyes on him, a smile appears on his lips. Small, wry and weathered, but genuine.

And maybe, just maybe, Louis thinks, there is hope for them yet.

 

It’s only much later when they’re back in Harry’s room and it’s already dark outside, Louis leaning against the headrest of the bed, Harry lying on his lap, Louis’ hand in his curls – his hair is getting longer again, finally, long enough that Louis can twirl a single curl around his finger. It reminds him too much of when they first met but today, it is somehow, in it’s own strange way – that Harry suddenly shoves his phone at Louis.

“I fucking knew it,” he says.

It’s unusual for them, has become a rare thing, this situation. They didn’t sleep with each other; instead they talked for hours, holding hands in between them, their bodies drifting closer and closer together, not craving release but intimacy, tenderness instead.

So unusual that it takes Louis a while to notice what exactly it is that Harry is trying to show him, too distracted by the shine of his eyes.

The screen is very bright, hurting his eyes, but the image is crisp and suddenly, everything falls into place.

The two men for earlier stare back at him, standing next to each other, though they’re keeping a professional distance. The brunet is dressed in red, smiling widely, while the blond wears neon green. The grass is a bright green underneath their boots, two children standing in front of them.

Louis almost physically feels his jaw dropping.

“No fuckin’ way!”

He has to quiver a laugh at how incredulous he sounds, at how he could have missed it. Your own fault for only searching in the showbiz, Lewis, he thinks, but Harry only chuckles, softly shaking his head before throwing his phone to the side, tugging Louis’ face down to him.

The kisses he places on his lips are slow, gentle and so achingly familiar it hurts.

Harry’s still grinning when they pull apart.

“I can’t believe I figured that one out before you”, he says, and this time when Louis wants to kiss that smug smirk right off his face, he does.

Harry tosses the phone aside, rolling over so he can drape his body all over Louis, leaning down to nip at his neck.

Their discovery is quickly forgotten. The agreement to keep the other couple’s secret goes unspoken; after all, they guard a similar one on their own.

And maybe, they could learn how to be in love again.

 

**Author's Note:**

>   * For anyone who might be curious, the couple they encounter are Manuel Neuer and Thomas Müller, the goalkeeper (and captain) and one of the main forwards of Germany's World Cup winning football/soccer team. If you're interested in why I ship them, I have a [tag](http://meggiesobsessions.tumblr.com/tagged/neuller/chrono) for them on my tumblr
>   * The picture Harry showed Louis is [this](https://78.media.tumblr.com/c577bee23e06b3e27923926df1e97a09/tumblr_p48wutfVgu1vh1wido1_540.jpg) one. Originally I didn't have a specific one in mind, but I changed the description to fit so that there would be a ref for people who have no idea who they are
>   * Title actually from _An Englishman in New York_ ... I couldn't resist
>   * I write FICTION about real people. None of this is intended to harm them or their reputation in any way
> 

> 
> Please leave kudos and maybe a comment if you liked it! | [tumblr](http://manuelmueller.tumblr.com/)


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